


Libera Me

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-03-19
Updated: 1999-03-19
Packaged: 2018-11-10 17:55:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11131881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: The boys take a break while Ma Vecchio has her moment. This story is a sequel toClutching at a Dream.





	Libera Me

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Song Cycle #7: Libera Me

# Song Cycle #7:

# Libera Me

**WARNING: Short, completely PG-rated angsting. M/M situation implied but not in evidence.** Follows "How Am I Supposed To Live Without You?", "The Beat of a Different Drum", "On My Own", "Blue Moon," "Living in the Real World," and "Clutching at a Dream"-- <whew!>\-- but probably can do fine on its own, actually. 

* * *

_O.k., you're nice. You write and say nice things about my stories so that I keep scribbling away. Once they were together and happy, you wanted a more... um... "adult" piece... a dsx post... fine..._

So what do I give you? Ray's mom.  <g>

No, no, don't shoot the messenger! Can *I* help who starts spilling their guts in my head? (blinks, pauses, now *there's* a lovely image for you!) I'll get to the 'good stuff', I promise! (If for no other reason than Marina will hunt me down and kill me if I don't <waves at Marina <g>.) 

Tonight's musical selection is "Libera Me" from Faure's Requiem Mass. Now don't freak, it's _not_ a death story. I don't do death stories. It's not even particularly sad-- it just reflects my weird tastes in music ;-) It's my favorite piece from my favorite Mass and I'm the author, so _deal_. 

I use Latin in the text, the way I learned it. I've given a _very_ free- hand translation into English at the end-- basically I just went through and did it myself. I took three years of Latin in a Catholic high school and went on to get a master's in Religion. I therefore decided I could fake it. I'm sure I botched _something_, either here or in the text; feel free to correct me if you like. (And yes, that was a blatant ploy for responses to my story... so there! ;-) 

Italian translations courtesy the LOGOS Dictionary (http://dictionary.logos.it/query.html) and my combination of Spanish and Latin grammar and good old BS ;-) I put them at the end too. 

A big TYK to Chris K. for beta-ing for me, but anything still in here is my fault, not hers. (<waves> Bwhahaha! I've corrupted her into committing fic too now! I may be doomed, but I'm hauling her down with me!!! ;-))) 

[Oh, and Chris K. later told me she begs to differ... she claims to have corrupted *me*... and, well, she has a _certain_ point... <g>] 

(<sigh> And I *know* the notes ended up longer than the text-- wanna make something of it??? <g>) 

DISCLAIMER: Not mine-- (Goddess, I wish! ;-) No offense or trespass intended and no profit made, I assure you. 

* * *

# Libera Me

**by Dianne T. DeSha (a.k.a. "la Mercenaire")  
**   
_Cat.Goddess@pobox.com_   


* * *

_"I think Ma knows...._  
She hasn't said anything and I'm sure as hell not going to bring it up.   
But sometimes I catch her looking at me and her eyes are so sad...." 

> _\-- Ray, "On  
>  My Own"_

* * *

> _Libera me, Domine, de morte aeterna,_

In Nomine Patrio, et Filio, et Spiritu Sanctu... Oh, Santa Maria, Madre di Dio, what am I going to do? 

He's my son and I love him with all my heart but, Mamma mia, what has he done now? 

He was so sad, so heartbroken when Benton left. He tried to say it was nothing much, that he was happy for his friend, but I'm his mother and I knew better. How could I not see how he grieved for the friend he had lost? 

But it was more than that, and-- Dio aiuta mi-- I knew that too. 

> _in die illa tremenda, in die illa,_  
>  _quando coeli movendi sunt, quando coeli movendi sunt et terra._  
> 

His heart was broken, Madre. It was as if Benton had taken his soul away when he left, and I worried, I worried so, but there was nothing I could do. 

I prayed. You know that. I prayed every night and every day for my son, for the pain to stop tearing him up inside, for God to have mercy on him. He is my son. How could I not want to see him happy? 

Then Benton came back and I couldn't pretend anymore. 

They didn't say anything at first, but they didn't have to. Does he think I raised five children and any of them can keep secrets from me? 

He _loves_ Benton, Madre. God help them, they're in love. 

> _Dum veneris judicare saeculum per ignem._  
> 

I know it's wrong. I lay awake all last night fearing for my Raymundo's soul. And Benton's too. He is a good man, Madre, a responsible, virtuous, caring man. I love them both, and had God made my child a daughter there is no one I would rather see her marry. 

But he is not and now they will both spend eternity in Hell. 

> _Tremens, tremens factus sum ego et timeo,_  
>  _dum discussio venerit atque ventura ira._

How can I want to take away the joy in my child's eyes? His soul is back and whole... and damned. 

This life is short, Madre, and eternity is very long-- I know what I must do. I must make him see reason, I must stop this. I must do everything I can to tear out my baby's heart so I can save his soul. 

> _Dies illa, dies irae,_  
>  _calamitatis et miseria,_

Oh Madre di Dio, I don't know if I can do it. I try to keep the vision of Hell before me, so that my fear can give me strength, but when I see them.... 

Oh Mamma, they're so happy, so _right_. 

You have a Son too, Madre. How can you let Him do this to mine? How can your Gesu bring them together only to tear them apart? How can you let Him? You have to understand the pain I feel, Madre di Dolores. 

He's not God, Madre, he's just a man and I'm afraid such suffering may kill him. 

> _Dies illa, dies magna,_  
>  _et amara, amara valde._

I went to the Padre. I went as if I could say confession for my son, anything to keep from doing what I know I must. The Padre, he took me aside to his office to talk. I told him, Madre, and waited for the shock in his eyes, but it never came. 

He was surprised, of course, who wouldn't be? But he just looked at me with comforting eyes. I told him that I knew what I must do. I'm a good Catholic, Mamma, I know what they are doing is a horrible sin and I told him that. 

And then I broke down crying. 

Father Behan, he asked me why I was crying. Why would I not be? My son, my baby was going to Hell... and for love. 

Then he asked me what I thought of Benton. 

> _Requiem aeterna dona eis, Domine,_  
>  _et lux perpetua luceat eis, luceat eis._

Father Behan says it may not be a sin at all. I argued with him, Madre, I told him he was wrong. But the words he was saying, God help me, they made sense. 

I'm still afraid, Madre. I want to believe that my prayers are answered, that God will let my Raymundo keep his heart and his soul together. Madre mia, I want to believe so much! 

But what if this is a temptation? What if Father Behan is wrong? How can I risk my child's hope of heaven? 

> _Libera me, Domine, de morte aeterna,_

Madre, I went to the priest. You saw me, Santa Vergine, I went to the priest and asked and he said they could be together. I'm a good Catholic, Mamma. So is my Raymundo. And Benton is a very good man, almost a saint already. 

> _in die illa tremenda, in die illa,_  
>  _quando coeli movendi sunt, quando coeli movendi sunt et terra._  
> 

So I make a new prayer now, Madre, to you-- mother to Mother. I know you would have done anything, anything at all to spare your Son His suffering if you could. What mother would not? So I ask you Mother, please. Now you are in heaven, you can talk to your Son, you can make this right. 

> _Dum veneris judicare saeculum per ignem._

If the Padre is wrong, if Your Son is angry for the sins they do, then give the punishment to me. Blame me because I did not stop them. Promise me you will not send my baby to Hell for loving Benton. Show mercy to another mother. 

> _Libera me, Domine, de morte aeterna._  
>  _Libera me, Domine._

_Per favore, Madre?_

< _finis_ >

* * *

>   
>  _**Libera Me/Free Me**   
>  _
> 
> Free me, Lord, from eternal death,  
>  on that momentous day, on that day,  
>  when the heavens shake, when the heavens and earth shake.  
>  While the sins of the world are judged by fire.  
> 
> 
> I am trembling, trembling and I fear,  
>  while my sins are judged and wrath approaches. (?)  
>  On that day, on the day of wrath,  
>  calamities and misery,  
>  On that day, on that great day,  
>  and bitterness, exceeding bitterness.  
> 
> 
> Give them eternal peace, Lord,  
>  And shine eternal light, eternal light upon them.  
> 
> 
> Free me, Lord, from eternal death,  
>  on that momentous day, on that day,  
>  when the heavens shake, when the heavens and earth shake.  
>  While the sins of the world are judged by fire.  
> 
> 
> Free me, Lord, from eternal death.  
>  Free me, Lord.

* * *

<O.K., author's confession time: I don't speak Italian so I wrote  
Ma Vecchio's parts in Spanish and then translated them word by word...  
if that shows, I apologize! ;-)>

> Santa Maria -- Holy Mary  
> Madre di Dio -- Mother of God  
> Mamma mia -- my Mama ;-)  
> Dio aiuta mi -- God help me  
> Gesu -- Jesus  
> Madre di Dolores -- Mother of Sorrows  
> Padre -- Father (i.e. priest)  
> Santa Vergine -- Holy Virgin  
> Per favore -- Please  
> 
> 
> In Nomine Patrio, et Filio, et Spiritu Sanctu -- <Latin again> In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit

_< finis>_

* * *

_More to come, never fear..._

Dianne  
_"Just call me Scheherazade..." <g>_  
Dianne la Mercenaire... -*- <cat.goddess@pobox.com>  
Vanity Web Page-- http://moonlight.dreamhost.com/lamerc/  
"I had to. I was depressed. When depressed, we must dance and throw a party." -- Chris 


End file.
